31 Days
by everybreatheverymove
Summary: A collection of J/A drabbles from now until the new year. Started on December 1st. Rated T/M. Accepting requests.
1. Day 1

**DAY ONE**: _It's the first couple of days after Japril get married, and Jackson finds April's sexy underwear._

* * *

"Babe?"

"Yeah?"

April lifts her head up then, pulling herself away from the cardboard box full of her books. She brushes her hands down the sides of her pants, steps into the hallway with a slight pout at his lack of reply.

"Jackson?"

She finds him stood in the bedroom, their bedroom, one hand tucked safely in his jeans' pocket while the other is waving around a flimsy piece of white lace panties.

"Oh."

"Oh?" He flicks another look at the underwear in his hand before glancing back over at her with a smirk, "How long did you plan on keeping these from me?"

She sighs, chews on her bottom lip as she makes a move forward to grab them from him. He backs away. Of course.

"Please?" She holds out a hand, offers her nicest smile, does that cheeky with a dimple kind of thing that drives him crazy.

Jackson shakes his head, moves his finger around higher so she can't reach. "No."

"They're not mine."

"See, now, I doubt that." His smirk grows, "Wait, how close are you and Robbins these days?"

"Very funny." The trauma surgeon gives up, slouches and folds her arms over her chest, "They were a gift."

He's silently dreading what comes next, but he downplays it by keeping a faint teasing smile on his face.

"From who?"

"My sisters." Pause. "For my wedding night."

"Oh."

The panties drop then, slipping back into the box and he clasps his hands infront of him, eyeing the floor.

She nears him, approaches gently and runs her hands down his arms.

"I never wore them." April informs him, like she needs to, like he has to hear it. Maybe it'll ease him, them, maybe it'll wipe her already clean conscience clear.

The green-eyed man nods, glances up at her with a smile, brows raised, "It doesn't matter if-"

"It does."

He can't help but adore her, love her more. She treasures them and he cherishes her.

"Do you wanna wear them now?" He holds back a laugh as he asks.

She rolls her eyes, smacks his arm with her hand, palm grasping his flesh and avoiding his heavy watch. "Shut up. I'm already wearing some."

April turns around to retrieve her box out of the office, but she gets pulled back when a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist and pull her into a body, back muscles to built chest and large hands gripping the skin beneath her top.

"Then I guess we're just gonna have to get you out of those ones instead."

She laughs at that, turns to face him when he starts kissing down the side of her neck. Her hands cup the sides of his face to stop him, draw his attention.

The redhead bites her lip for a second, ponders her thoughts as her eyes shift from his own to his mouth, watching as his tongue darts out to licks his lips, "Is this what being married is like?"

Jackson shrugs, pulls her tighter, slips his hands down the back pockets of her jeans', does that stupid million-dollar grin kind of thing that drives her crazy, "I guess so."


	2. Day 2

**DAY TWO**: _On a chilly evening, April is cold and clings to a warm Jackson, hugging him close for his warmth._

* * *

"I couldn't open the wine bottle so you're gonna have to do it."

April pulls down the sleeves of her sweater, tucks her legs beneath herself comfortably, resting her chin against the top of her right knee.

"Did you at least try this time?" He laughs from in the bathroom, and she can tell that he probably has a grin on his face even though she can't see it.

Rolling her eyes, the trauma surgeon nods to herself, cradling her arms around her legs, bringing them closer, keeping her warmer. "Yes, I tried."

The bathroom door opens then, hot steam pouring out across the cold wooden floorboards and making April glance up at her husband, stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame with a smirk on his lips.

Jackson eyes her for a second, contemplates moving, "Did you?"

"Yes." She bites her lip, hugs herself tighter. "How are you not cold right now?" The redhead almost pouts.

He shrugs, steps closer and sits on the edge of the bed, towel around his waist and wet chest glistening.

"Because I just had a very hot shower and you refused to join me."

She almost has to slap herself for staring, until she remembers that she can she will.

He is hers. She's allowed to stare if she likes, and maybe even use him as a radiator?"

She nods her head once, licks her lips and shuffles closer to him, "I now regret that decision."

"Because you're cold?" Jackson grins, holds his arms out open, inviting her into his tanned body willingly. His arms wrap around her waist then, her legs by his side and his chest to her side. She leans her head against his left shoulder, snuggles just a little bit closer.

"Because you're hot." She giggles at her own reply, looks up at him through long, tired lashes, "Maybe I need heating up?"

"Maybe you do." He nods, agrees, runs his thumb over her hip tenderly, tracing the cool pale skin beneath her purple sweater.

"Any ideas?" She shivers, once, twice when he kisses the side of her neck.

"Oh, I have plenty."

"Bath?"

"Not what I was thinking, but alright."


	3. Day 3

**DAY THREE**: _Japril moving in together after Lake Tahoe and having a small light hearted argument about all of Jackson's shoes._

* * *

What grown, thirty-two year old, surgeon, heir, man needs a whole closet dedicated to his shoes?

Hell, they aren't even all shoes.

Half of them are his fancy sneakers, a third are his classy handmade Italian shoes (because, well, he's an Avery after all), and the other third she doesn't even want to think about.

(She'd never thought that he owned a pair of flip-flops but apparently he does, so that's a surprise.)

"Do you seriously need all of these?"

"Uh, yeah." He replies like it's obvious, with his hands on his hips as he stands up from unpacking one of her boxes, confused look on his face, "Why?"

"It's just a little ridiculous, is all." She shrugs, takes a breath before stepping away from his closet.

The green-eyed man rolls his eyes, moves toward her and slips his arms around her waist from behind, chin against her shoulder, "Do you want me to move some of them?"

"Will you?"

The redhead raises a brow, turns her face softly to glance at him from the corner of her eye, noticing his lips part and pause.

"Probably not."

"Jackson!"

He laughs, kisses her shoulder over the material of her green butterfly-patterned shirt, "I'm kidding."


	4. Day 4

**DAY FOUR**: _Jackson and April take a trip to a Christmas tree farm but it's cold and muddy, and they can't agree on a tree._

* * *

"What about this one?"

"Too tall."

"We have high ceilings." She reminds him, left brow raised and eyes wide.

He shurgs, "So? That doesn't mean I want some huge tree standing in my living room."

"_Our_ living room."

"Yes, ours."

She smiles, leans into his side, watches as he groans when he steps in a pile of mud on the soiled dirt, "You should watch your step."

"Can I not just watch yours instead?"

"Yes."

Moving further along down the lanes of trees, he finally chooses a tree.

"This one."

"This one? I'm not opposed but it looks like it's dying and I know you hate that."

"No, I don't. And you love it, so..."

"I do, but are you telling me that you'd want this half-dead short tree in your precious living room."

"The reason we should take this one is _because_ it's half-dead. You know you want it." He grins, nudges her side softly, "You know you want to give it a home before it dies."

"Shut up." He's right. Damn him.

"Besides, it's _our_ living room, so..."


	5. Day 5

**DAY FIVE**: _Jackson tries to surprise April with pancakes in the morning, but she's ready for round two._

* * *

The sweet smell of pancakes mixed with strawberries is what wakes her up.

She's never really known him to cook breakfast, but apparently he does, and apparently it smells divine.

She moves out of the bed, their bed, runs her hands through her long hair and pulls on his shirt from the floor to cover her naked body.

"Jackson?" Padding across the floor from their bedroom, she spots him stood by the hob.

He turns around then, slight frown, almost surprised to see her, "You were supposed to stay in bed." Jackson smiles softly anyway, accepts her into his arms when she steps closer to peek over his shoulder at the cooking pancakes.

Her appetite is never huge in the morning, but seeing him stood being all husband-y with no shirt and a sleepy face is making her hungry for something else.

April licks her lips, wraps her arms around his front to his back, leans against him, slips her small hands down the back of his pyjama pants.

"They smell nice."

He kisses the top of her head, glancing back over at his food before he stares down at her with a smirk, "So do you."

They've only been back in Seattle for a day, give or take a few hours, and she's already growing used to this. Being here, being his wife, being married.

And of course, after a couple of hours of unpacking and some phone calls to Arizona and Hunt to inform them that no, she was not dead, and **no**, _she was not with Jackson_ (as they so curiously asked her), the only thing left to do was christen their apartment. It was already his, but now it was hers, too.

Moving into his place seemed like a logical step, since it was bigger and he had way more stuff to move than she did.

"Thank you." The flushed redhead bites her lower lip, pulls his attention away from the stove when she leans up to kiss him, using her tongue to part his lips.

He pulls away after a moment, leans his forehead against hers, slips his cool fingertips beneath the hem of his shirt, grasping her waist gently. "I should say the same."

"You can just show me instead." She whispers, eyes to the ground and teeth chewing on her bottom lip, hands dancing around to his front, messing with the cotton strings of his pants.

April shifts sway from him when he goes to kiss her again, leaning her back against the island in the middle of their kitchen.

"Pick me up."

He raises a brow, licks his dry lips and stares at her own, "Here?"

She nods in reply, straightening her back up when his dark hands slip to her hips, lifting her up with ease onto the counter.

Jackson moves a hand behind him to turn off the stove before he faces her again, watching as she parts her bare legs and blinks her long lashes, shirt hanging low and unbuttoned down her chest.

"Jesus." He mutters under his breath, one hand running up her left thigh, the other making its way up to her neck, cradling the side of her face.

She smiles, traces her hands up his chest to wrap them around his neck and she shuffles closer to the edge of the counter as he drops his left hand to her knee, thumb tracing patterns on her creamy flesh.

"I'm so glad I married you."

"I'm glad you married me, too." She giggles, clasps her ankles together behind him, pulls him closer by the shoulders.


	6. Day 6

**DAY SIX**: _Jackson shaking April's lifeless body in his arms with tear-filled eyes, his voice cracking as he tells her to wake up._

* * *

Life is never easy. It's not supposed to be. Things would be too simple if it was. We're meant to suffer, cry, die. We're meant to heal, laugh, live. We're allowed to, supposed to. Life is ours to take, served up to us on a silver platter. We take the good days, and we make the most of them. We carpe the diem. We live. But then bad things happen, and we change. The sky gets darker, our hearts sink deeper, and we give in. Life changes, in an instant, in a fraction of a second. We sink. We suffer.

Such is what happens on a fateful Wednesday night.

There's a black car driving down one lane at normal speed, a sober driver, happy couple in the front.

There's a truck driving down the other lane at a faster speed than the limit, drunk driver, empty passenger seat.

And there's an impact, or maybe more. There's metal to glass, and glass to skin, and the skin cuts, rips, until blood seeps through to wound.

One person, who'd had a little too much to drink before he took to the wheel makes it out fine. He gets up, brushes himself off, and walks away sanction free before anybody can find him.

The others, they aren't so lucky.

One half is bruised, bloody, sore. But it doesn't take him, the survivor, long to realise that his bruises don't actually hurt and the blood on his may not be his.

"April?"

Shifting out from under the car, because he can, because the impact barely touched him, he reaches the ground, the gravel that he was driving on a few moments earlier.

He doesn't stand, don't shout, only stares, searches. And it's only when he finally catches a glimpse of red hair spilling out from the opposite side of the vehicle that he moves, hurries.

"April!"

He thanks himself for being a doctor, for knowing what to look for and knowing what it means. But he hates himself for the same reasons.

He can't feel a pulse, a breath, anything, on her and he hates himself because he knows what that means.

"April?"

His voice is low, his legs kicking out by his side so he lies down beside her, fingertips to her pulse points and eyes wide, tired, clearer than usual. He tries everything he can.

Jackson breathes heavily, nostrils flaring and lips dry, running a hand down her side and pinching her small waist, his other hand scraping back the fallen hair from her face. He lingers against her cheek, carefully searching her eyes for anything, any life, any death.

Nothing.

With a sharp intake of air and a heavy heart, he shuffles closer, reaches for his phone in his pocket and dials 911, no matter how smashed up his cell is. When he hears it ring, slowly but with no reply, he lays it down beside above their heads, closing his eyes for a second.

"Come on." He whispers to himself, to her, unable to stop himself from staring at her, unsure of what to do, "Wake up."

He shakes, gently and without even really moving. He can't move, won't move, won't leave.

He repeats the same pattern for the next ten minutes, until an ambulance arrives for him, too late for her, and tries to drag him away.

He sits up, but doesn't move any further. He pulls her up into his lap, though they tell him not to, and he holds her. And he realises then what's actually happening, as though the past fifteen minutes have been a horrible nightmare.

"Wake up." He repeats it over and over again, shakes her shoulders against his chest, keeps a hand pressed securely against her back like she needs it, like he has to. He's always protected her, he can't, won't stop now. "April!"

"Sir-"

"Give him a minute."

He hears Meredith's demand from a few feet away, feels the way she shoots daggers through the paramedic's soul and he thanks her without looking. She'd know.

"He needs to-"

"Shut up. Now." She points, dares, "Give him a minute." She speaks teeth gritted as she turns to face the plastic surgeon with a blank expression. Goddamn it.

Why does stuff like this have to keep happening to them? Always, on repeat, like they're all on some sort of contract, deal with the Devil?

He stays until the dark sky almost turns light, until his eyes are no longer blurred from tears and only pained from fatigue, until his heart is split and no longer just

breaking.  
He stays until she leaves him.


	7. Day 7

**DAY SEVEN**: _Japril making love when suddenly Jackson hiccups. April can't stop laughing every time he does it, which makes him roar of frustration._

* * *

"Are you-"

"Uh huh." She nods, pushes her chest up against him, throws her head back.

"Gr-" He stops what he's doing, quits moving and hiccups with a frown. What the hell?

April bites her lip then, eyes fluttering open as she stares up at him curiously, "You alright there, big guy?" Her hands wrap around his biceps, gripping his skin tightly.

She tries not to laugh when he does it again, lets a little gasp of air slip past his lips with no control.

"Oh, come o-" Damn it.

The redhead can't hold back her giggle then, when he grimaces and holds his breath to try and swallow a few times to stop it.

Holding his breath doesn't last for very long when his wife, lay beneath him and waiting for him to bring her to cloud nine, finds the whole thing hilarious.

"April." Jackson manages to get out, eyebrows knitting and a soft pout on his face.

She continues to laugh, leans her head back against the pillow and lets him be. "Done yet?" She smirks.

He rolls his eyes, breath turning to another hiccup to a growl when it persists and she laughs out loud, clamping a hand over his mouth as though that'll stop it.

He bites the skin of her index finger softly to move her hand away, a small grin on his face, "Suffocating me isn't going to work-"

Hiccup.

Giggle.

Damn it.

"Wait."

"Yeah?"

"It's gone." He smirks, quickly running his hands down her sides to grasp the backs of her knees and pull them up towards him.

She stops laughing at that, instead wrapping her arms around his neck and resuming her motion against his body.

"I-"

"Uh."

"Jackson?"

"Yeah?"

Hiccup.

And he growls again, at her this time, body stopping. "Damn it."


	8. Day 8

**DAY EIGHT**: _April is standing at a bus stop really late at night trying to catch the last bus. Then, when the bus finally comes, they just go right past and don't stop at all. But Jackson was driving by just then and saw it happen._

* * *

She scans through the belongings of her bag for a good few minutes, trying to locate her wallet so she can find her bus card.

"Aha!"

She lifts her hand from the bag dangling from her shoulder, she looks up just in time to see the Number 47 bus drive right past her, heading down toward the highway and out of sight.

"What the- Come on!"

April huffs, tosses herself back down on the bench below the small bus shelter.

Of course, just her luck.

"Do you need a ride?"

Perking back up then, she shifts her gaze to the car pulled over by the side, handsome face peeking at her through the window.

"I'm sorry?"

"Do you, you know, need a ride?" He, the kind driver with an expensive watch and bright eyes, asks her again.

She nears the black car, eyes him carefully, fingertips grazing the side of the passenger door.

"You're not gonna kill me, are you?"

"No?" He raises a brow, almost laughs. She isn't laughing.

"Or, um… ra-"

"I can just go if you'd like." He lifts a finger from the steering wheel and points it down the street as she takes a second to look him over.

He looks tidy (no, she's not high maintenance), and upper-class (no, she's not a gold digger), and, well, clearly good-looking.

"Okay." She finally agrees, grasping the handle to open the passenger side door.

"Where are you heading?"

"Grey Sloan Memorial." She tells him, placing her bag down by her feet as she turns to close the door once she's perfectly settled on the comfy leather seat. "I'm visiting a friend."

"Oh, I work there." He informs her then, grin and everything, and she can't help but smile and nod.

"Cool."

Odd coincidence.

"I'm April." She tells him abruptly, facing him directly and holding a hand out directly for him to shake.

"Jackson."


	9. Day 9

**DAY NINE**: _Jackson sees some holly and kisses April until she points out that it's not mistletoe._

* * *

"Doctor Kepner, I need a consult!"

She hears her husband shout out from across the ER, and she swiftly turns her head to look over at him.

He's stood in front of a door, one hand on the handle, the other on his hip.

April licks her lips, smiles sweetly down at the child on the bed in front of her. He's not urgent.

She drops her utensil down and tilts her head towards the other side of the room, eyeing the boy's parents, "I'll be right back."

Walking across the room until she reaches Jackson, she checks her watch curiously, counting down the minutes until the end of her shift, until she can go home and prepare the Christmas surprise she'd be keeping from her husband all week.

Jackson grins, pulls her in by the waist when she nears him, leans his forehead against hers, eyes cast up at the doorway.

She bites the inside of her bottom lip, almost giggles, decides not to ruin his fun. "I have a patient."

"I have mistletoe." He kisses her then, one hand to her waist and his other to the side of the face.

She pulls away after a moment, runs her hand up his forearms to grasp his elbows. "Jackson?"

"Yeah?" He whispers, clearly still happy with his little gesture.

She shifts her gaze above them, raising a brow with a slight smirk, "That's holly."

"Oh."


	10. Day 10

**DAY TEN**: _April distracts Jackson with sex while he's watching a basketball game._

* * *

"Can you come here for a quick sec?!" April calls out from their bedroom.

Jackson's eyes don't lift off of the television screen and he waves a hand about behind him, "Yeah."

About a minute passes before she moves, realising he isn't going to budge himself and that he probably didn't even register what she said.

"Jackson!"

She leans a hand against the wall adjacent to their bedroom, crossing her bare legs and curving her hip out.

She usually lets him have his way. If he wants to watch the game, he can watch it. If he wants to eat junk food, he can eat it.

But she also never tends to have over-active pregnancy hormones, and she only ever wears his favourite jersey after sex per his request, not before.

The redhead chews on her bottom lip for a moment, contemplating her next move. "Baby." She calls out, trailing her y's and her voice low.

"Babe, I'll be two min-" He turns his head as he speaks, throws his arm over the back of their sofa. His face changes when he catches sight of her appearance. Green eyes seem to light up and he raises both brows in surprise, "Hi."

He stands up from the couch then, stepping around the furniture, eyes never leaving her legs as he swirls his beer bottle around.

"You weren't wearing that earlier." Jackson points out, licking his lips slowly and watching as she swaps her lean, tugs on the bottom of his shirt covering her body.

April pulls up the hem of his sports jersey, invites him to take a peek at the front of her lacy underwear. She mildly blushes, shrugs her shoulders, "I was bored."

"When I had a ball game to watch." He informs her, sliding his bottle down along the kitchen counter before moving to rest a hand on her side.

She backs away and he smirks at her small giggle.

"Wouldn't you rather _play_ a game?" She's grown more confidant over time, since they've been married and she knows that He won't judge her. She experiments more, tries new stuff, lets him take advantage sometimes. She enjoys it, and she does her own fair share of using.

"That depends what it is."

"A different kind of ball game." She grins wickedly when he stiffs a laugh and she moves to stand back in the bedroom doorway, running a hand down her front. "You wanna play?" Her usually perky voice is dangerously low and she bats those long lashes that drive him insane.

He approaches her after that, shuffling to remove his t-shirt as he follows her into the bedroom. "Gimme my shirt back!"

His pregnant wife laughs, throws herself down on her back on their bed.

She spreads her legs out in front of her, watching carefully as he comes to stand between them. Her arms fan out by her sides and she smirks. "Take it from me."


	11. Day 11

**DAY ELEVEN**: _April and Jackson are both on terrible dates with other people in the same restaurant, but they end up together._

* * *

"Scotch." He orders, slipping down onto a stool at the bar, "Neat."

Jackson turns around to face the other people in the restaurant as he waits for his drink.

The happy elderly couples are eating dinner in silence. There's a couple sat by the window who look like they're on the brink of a divorce.

And then he remembers his date. What a failure that was.

She was boring, uninteresting, kind of depressed and probably a lonely cat lady. He's not sure what Alex was thinking when he set them up. Hell, it was probably just a joke the paediatric surgeon was playing on him.

"Can I have some water, please?"

His head whips around at the sound of a woman's sweet voice beside him.

She slides her small hands across the counter, taps the surface while he shifts his gaze to her face.

"Hi."

The woman, slightly shorter than he is from what he can tell, turns to look at him, brushing a strand of fallen red hair behind her ear.

She smiles back at him, almost timidly, and keeps her eyes focused on his own. "Hi."

"I'm Jackson." He extends a hand, watches as she cautiously shakes it. "I won't bite."

She laughs quietly, plucks her glass of water up from the bar, "I didn't think I would, I just- I'm on a date."

"Oh, that's cool. I am, too." He nods his head over to a table in the middle of the restaurant where a blonde woman is sat typing away on her phone.

The redhead frowns, "Then why are you all the way over here?"

"I'm taking a break."

"Ah." She nods once, twice, "Well, I should really get back to my date, so-"

Truth be told, her date isn't going so well. The guy is completely up his own ass and never stops talking about himself and his ex-girlfriend.

"Well, I'll be over here." Jackson tells her, swirling around his scotch and eyeing the liquid.

She smiles, keeps walking back over to her table.

Truth be told, she's too nice to give up on her date.

On her way back from the bathroom, she spots the guy from the bar sat at his table, furiously cutting his piece of steak while his date rambles on about something.

The blonde keeps waving her hands around and Jackson seems most displeased, mocking disbelief and faking a surprised gasp. He rolls his eyes when he glances back down at his food, and the redhead giggles from her spot a few tables away as she sits down.

Her own date is busy on a phone call, which is the main reason she'd excused herself for a minute while she used the restroom. She didn't even need to pee, she just needed to get away from him before she ended up smashing a plate over his head and shouting a loud 'Shut up!'.

She gives up trying to catch the guy's attention after a few moment,s and instead chooses to glance around the room.

The elderly couples by the window warm her heart and she smiles; she'd love something like that one day. She's a hopeless romantic, after all.

Her eyes fall on Jackson then, noticing the way he'd clearly already been staring at her.

She blushes softly, pushes a strand of hair behind her ear again.

He lifts his hand from his table slightly and points a finger towards the bar with a suggestive look, brows raised and a small grin covering his lips.

The redhead agrees, nods with a bite of her bottom lip. She excuses herself to her date again, though he obviously isn't listening and she groans, tempted to throw her glass of wine in his face. She picks up her glass to take with her as she approaches the bar.

"Hello, again." Jackson greets her, holding out his glass for her to clink.

She giggles, taps her red wine against his scotch. "Hello."

"Can I get your name now?"

"I'm April."

"Nice to meet you again, April. Tell me, how's your date going?" He sits down on a stool, and she sits alongside him, crossing her legs and creasing the material of her short black dress over her thighs.

"It could be going better." She admits with a sigh.

He nods, green eyes lighting up, "Join me for dinner?"

"What about-"

"Excuse me, sir?" He pulls up an employee beside them, slipping the man a generous wad of cash beneath his hand shake.

The young man grins, holds up two menus and extends an arm towards a secluded part of the restaurant. "Table for two?"

"Yes."


	12. Day 12

**DAY TWELVE**: _Jackson has to go to the doctor and give up a semen sample but he has a difficult time getting himself going, so he calls April for a little help._

* * *

April throws the dishcloth over her shoulder as she reaches across the kitchen counter to pick up her cell phone as it blares.

She smiles down at their four year old, Everett Michael Avery, sat playing with his dinosaurs on the rug.

The boy clearly fails to notice his mother's gaze dropped on him as he continues to scream a bunch of 'Raw's and 'Ah's.

"Hey." She answers the call, leaning her elbows against the counter as she waits for her husband's reply on the other end of the line.

"Hey." Jackson sighs down his end, clears his throat, "Babe, we have a problem."

The redhead frowns, turns to face the stove, rests her palms to the cool marble edge, "What's wrong?"

On their weekend off, he had to pop down to the clinic to get himself checked out.

They were having trouble conceiving another child, and April had already done her part. She was all clear, so obviously it was something on his end that wasn't working properly. Or, maybe, they just weren't meant to have another child after all that they went through with Everett. (Luckily, it all worked out find.)

"I can't-" He begins, groans down the line and she can imagine his eyes closing.

Jackson grips the plastic cup in his hand and stares into it for a second as though he was looking into his own soul before he tosses it around, pushing his cell into the crook of his neck as he talks.

"You can't what?"

"I need your help."

"You just need to donate a bit of sem- Oh!" Her hazel eyes widen then and she licks her lips, hides a grin though nobody would notice if she laughed. "I see."

"Yeah." He sighs again, plopping himself down on the seat in the bath cubicle he'd been offered. He stares down at his lap as he talks, brows knitted together, "Help me out."

"Jackson! I can't right now, I have to make lunch for Everett." She shakes her head to herself, quickly glancing over at their toddler playing comfortably across the room. If she left the room for a few minutes, he wouldn't even notice. Maybe…

"Please? Come on, I'd do it for you."

"Can't you just use a magazine or something? Don't they give you that kind of stuff when they hand you the cup?" She's teasing him and she smirks to herself, tossing the dishcloth down on the counter before she slips into their bedroom for a second.

Jackson rolls his eyes, clearly not amused by her joke, "Would you prefer that I jerk off to some naked chick in a magazine, or to my own wife?" He catches her out there, and he smiles triumphantly to himself, "Come on."

"Fine."

April takes a deep breath, pushes the door until it almost closes.

"Unzip your pants."

"Thank you!"

"You're gonna be making up for this tonight, you know?"

"Not a problem."


	13. Day 13

**DAY THIRTEEN**: _April and Jackson decorate the house for Christmas with their son._

* * *

"Mama, can I do the staw?"

April finishes tying one of the decorations on the tree before she looks down, runs a hand over her son's curly hair. "Sure you can. But only when the whole tree is finished, okay?" She smiles when he nods eagerly, "I think daddy has it. Do you wanna go ask him?"

Everett nods, plopping down the tinsel he had thrown over his shoulders onto the floor as he runs off into the hallway.

"Dad?" He taps the older man on the back of his leg where he stretches.

Jackson turns with a smile at that, crouching down to his son's level and dropping the stapler down beside him carefully. "What's up, buddy?"

The smaller Avery's hazel eyes seem to brighten, much like his mother's do when she gets something she wants.

He's a spitting image of what his dad looked like when he was a kid, but his eyes are April's and he definitely has a mix of both of their personalities.

"Do you have the staw for the top of the twee?" He asks innocently, twirling his hands in front of him, much like his father does behind his back when he's anxious, "Mama says you do."

Jackson grins, reaches behind him to pull the box full of Christmas decorations forward. He pulls open the scuffed flaps, raises both brows questionably, "It should be in here." He rummages through the box, feeling his son's eyes burning holes through his skull impatiently as he waits. "Ah!"

Everett laughs then, taking a step back and happily licking his lips when his father pulls up the polished bright gold star. "Yes!"

The older man chuckles, standing up with a brush of his jeans. "Has your mom finished the tree yet?"

The toddler shrugs with a soft pout, quickly stealing the star from his father's grasp before running away in hysterical laughter.

"Hey!" Jackson runs after him with a disbelieving smile, stopping when he spots April stood proudly in front of her precious Christmas tree.

Kepner's have perfect Chrismas trees, is what she always tells him. And this one is no exception.

The decorations follow a deep red and gold colour scheme and she's placed a few leafy green items in places. It's perfect.

Jackson steps beside his wife then, folding his arms over his chest and tilting his head with a smirk, "Nice work."

April nudges his arm, feigns a pout, much like the one their son has mastered, "How's the tinsel hanging?"

"It's… a work in progress." He laughs, watches as Everett jumps up and down as though he'll reach the top of the tree from there on the ground. "Hang on, buddy."

He grabs the boy softly by the waist, hoists him up onto his shoulders so he can near the top.

"How's that?"

April giggles, eyes them carefully, "A little closer!"

Jackson leans towards the tree, resting a steady hand to keep it in place as Everett places the star on top of the tree, as perfectly as his mother always does.

"Good?"

The trauma surgeon smiles, watching the scene in front of her, adoring the way Jackson turns to face her with a gleeful toddler on his shoulders.

"Perfect."


	14. Day 14

**DAY FOURTEEN**: _April is trying to sleep, but she finds herself too horny to do so. She moves in closer to Jackson, beside her in the bed, and starts seducing him in whatever way she can in order to try and quench her needs so she can get some much-needed rest._

* * *

"The baby's awake."

"Uh huh." Jackson murmurs, nods once with a soft frown, wraps his arm thrown across her waist tighter.

The redhead rolls her eyes, shifts her shoulders uncomfortably. "No, Jackson, the baby is awake. That means I'm awake."

He groans, doesn't bat an eyelid, "Go to sleep."

"I can't!" April sighs deeply, pushing her behind further into his front, unintentionally of course. It's habit, routine at this point. Or, wait, maybe- "Jackson?"

"Umm?" He makes a noise, clearly listening to but not really paying attention to what she wants to ask.

"I'm awake." She repeats herself, twists herself over so her growing belly is pressed up against her husband's bare abdomen, and she grasps the sides of his neck between her hands gently, "Which means…" She trails off, throwing tired strands of red hair behind her shoulder, "D'you wanna do it?" She whispers, pushing into him closer.

"Do what?" So, he's listening at least.

April licks her lips, runs a finger down his face to his collarbone, traces his skin with a smooth touch, "Do it."

He peaks an eye open, obviously now not totally ignorant to her suggestion, "Now?"

She nods eagerly, moves to straddle his waist, throwing a leg over his side. Her hands rest on his chest, and she lowers herself down into his lap. "Yeah."

Jackson parts his lips, and she goes to kiss him until she realises that he's yawning. "It's two a.m." He voices, low and tired.

She shrugs, chews the inside of her bottom lip, "Please?"

"April, I had a long day. Okay? I need sleep."

"Well, I need sex. Now. Right now. With you." She frowns, stares down at his groin, "Just wake little Jackson up and I'll be good to go."

He almost laughs then, she can tell, but he instead just chuckles once and turns his head sideways to snuggle deeper into his pillow. "Seriously?"

"I'm horny, and you made me this way."

"Fine. One time, okay?"

"Twice. And I'll return the favour tomorrow."

"Deal."


	15. Day 15

**DAY FIFTEEN**: _Jackson is blind and April is mute, but they still find ways to show that they love each other._

* * *

This one was kind of complicated, if I'm being completely honest. Since Jackson is distinguished by his eyes and April by her perky voice this makes them perfectly cast as blind and deaf/mute characters, as they go. Anyway, I hope you like it even though it's completely different. Enjoy! :)

He doesn't see with sight. He uses his hands, feels, senses.

Touch is his weapon. Touch is his power.

His eyes are clear, to a beautiful fault, and the contrasting blue and green colours give off the impression that maybe he's normal. He's like everyone else, but he isn't.

He doesn't see, he touches. He hears.

He can feel the paleness of her creamy flesh, the darker tone of his skin, the freckles beneath both layers.

He can sense the way she feels by the faint noises she makes, the way she shivers, the way goosebumps erupt all over and cover her skin.

He remembers how they met. In a hospital, in therapy. He's just not sure how.

She, on the other end, lacks his hearing but gains his unattainable sight. She can see him, for all that is his and can never be. She loves him anyway.

He's not normal, but neither is she.

While he hears her moans, relies on his other heightened senses to explore her, she watches, sees. She admires, him, the both of them together.

She notices his freckles the same way he feels hers. She looks at him all the time, much in the same manner he constantly touches her out of comfort.

She doesn't hear him when he says that he loves her. She feels it, sees his lips move. She could sign it, she could try to say it. Or, she could just express it.

She could move with him in rhythm. She could just fall with him, into love and into bedsheets. She could feel the same way he does, use her hands and lips and body and heart to love him.

They're no different, but they aren't the same. They aren't normal, they're them.


	16. Day 16

**DAY SIXTEEN**: _Japril during their first holiday season together. April gets really seasonal and passionate over the holidays, but Jackson isn't so seasonal._

* * *

"Did you find a stocking yet?"

He sounds aggravated, almost like they've been at this for hours. It's been ten minutes.

"No." April perks, trailing her O's, sending him a teasing glare. "It'd gonna be his first Christmas, he needs a perfect stocking to hang up."

"Because he's really gonna remember it…" Jackson rolls his eyes, slides his hands in his pockets as she continues to lead him down the decoration isles.

She taps his arm then, stops in front of a shelving rack full of bright red stockings with Disney characters on the front.

"Pick one." He groans, closes his eyes. He's had a long day, and shopping all evening for Christmas decorations, that he deems only a commercial extortion, wasn't in his plans.

"Winnie the Pooh or Bambi?"

"Doesn't Bambi die?"

He frowns. Who the heck would want to watch a movie where a deer dies?

The trauma surgeon softly laughs, "That's Bambi's mother." She shakes her head in disbelief, picking up the Winnie the Pooh stocking and throwing it into their cart. "Didn't you ever watch Disney movies growing up? They're great to watch at Christmas."

"I kinda liked the Grinch." He shrugs, smirked wickedly. It's not a lie. He pulls the cart out from under his wife's grasp and pushes it along ahead of them.

"That explains so much right now!" She teases.


	17. Day 17

**DAY SEVENTEEN**: _Japril are being lovey-dovey around their kids, to the point of grossing them out. This only encourages them to be more affectionate around each other to mess with their kids._

* * *

"Gross."

"The small but advanced three year old pulls her face when she watches her daddy kiss the tip of her mom's nose.

"Cooties." She raises her shoulders, stares down at her ice cream.

The boy beside her nods in reply, frown across his forehead and throwing a disgusted look at his parents, "I know."

Across the bench, April pulls away from her husband, rests her head against his chest comfortably. She smiles, runs a hand in circles across his stomach. Looking over at her children with a grin, she pauses. "Hey. What's wrong?"

"Eliza Charlotte Avery pouts, places the bottom of her ice cream cone down on the wooden table as she answers, "You 'n daddy. Cooties."

"Cooties?" Jackson laughs across the table, wraps his arm tighter around April's waist. His daughter is smart, probably more than most three year old, probably a little less than his son was at that age.

The redhead giggles, reaches a hand across the table to push the cone up from the bench top, "They're not cooties, Eliza." She smiles at their daughter, "It's love."

It's Everett time to pipe up then, shuddering and avoiding his parents' gaze, "Gross." He repeats his sister's words, licks a little of his dessert.

His hazel eyes daringly peek up to meet his mother's matching ones and he bashfully smiles.

April tilts her head to the side, "Why is it gross?"

"Because…" He's seven years old now, and according to Catherine, he's almost the same as Jackson used to be at that age.

"Cooties." Eliza shrugs, looks into her father's eyes. Her green eyes are a perfect match to his green ones, but she has more of her mother's complexion and personality.

"Like this?" Jackson leans over, kisses his wife on the lips quickly to tease the kids.

A resounding "Eww!" come from the other end of the table and the parents grin, eye their kids adoringly.

Everett shakes his head, stuffs the final piece of ice cream cone into his mouth. "Stop it." He raises his brows, "Please."

"Umm… No."


	18. Day 18

**DAY EIGHTEEN**: _Jackson and April get their bodies switched and head to work. They find out about each other's situation and find themselves in the on-call or supply closet._

* * *

When she'd woken up she didn't feel any different. Maybe only that she was on the opposite of the bed than she usually sleeps and the other half was empty.

Then she'd looked down and seen it. First of all, her breasts has vanished. Secondly, her skin was shades darker. Finally, what the heck was that in her pants?!

He, or, well, her really (the other one!) doesn't dare say anything until later on in the day. It's the lunch break and he (in her body, that is) had paged her (in his body to the storage room on the fifth floor).

"Jackson!"

"I know!" The reply comes from her body, from her voice, and it's weird. Confusing to most.

The redhead looks down at her body, admires the space between her legs. She pulls a face, begins to smirk, "Well, this could be fun."

"Apr- Jackson!" His body scolds hers, frowning unhappily until she glances down at the body she now relies upon. She grins devilishly, bites her (his!) bottom lip and she pulls down the top of his scrub pants. "Aha!"

"I'm so confused right now.

"Me, too."

…

"Do you wanna try it?"

"Yeah!"

His hands removes her scrub top, and she hers untie the strings of his body's pants. Damn this is confusing.


	19. Day 19

**DAY NINETEEN**: _Jackson finds out that April likes having her hair pulled during intimate moments._

* * *

It's the colour of her hair that does it.

She tells herself that if she were still a brunette, still following a dyed job, she'd different. She wouldn't be as fiery, this passionate. She wouldn't let him do it.

But since they'd been having sex, since she had been having sex, her hair had always been a violent shade of red, whether with a tint of strawberry blonde or without. It sometimes goes darker. She sometimes goes darker.

He realises just how much she loves his hands during their first week of marriage. He's doing something and she's making noises, and clearly she never wants him to stop pulling, tugging.

He pulls her in closer, fists his hand through her hair and his long fingers through her curls. She loves it, loves him.

"Yes!" Her gentle fingertips crinkle the soft sheet beneath them, hands clutching for strength, as he pulls her in with one hand to the waist, one hand pulling on the ends of her hair, in a tight fist with want and need and lust.

"Shit!"


	20. Day 20

**DAY TWENTY**: _Japril are kissing in a private area with the door unlocked, and one of them begins to remove clothing when someone walks through the unlocked door._

* * *

"Somebody could walk in!"

"Nobody is gonna come in here, okay?" His lips are down her neck, eyes flickering be

tween her breasts and her lips. Jackson smiles, circles his thumbs around her hips, "Okay?"

The trauma surgeon sighs, nods begrudgingly. She huffs, leans her head back against the poster-clad wall. Who really needs antiseptic anyway? "Fine."

He smirks, gets back to business, dances his hands across her abdomen until her pulls on the top of her pants, moves down her chest. He kisses the swell of her breasts, breath leaving patterns against her flesh.

April's eyes flutter close, her left hand flying out to grab the metal shelf beside her.

"Don't-" She begins, bites the inside of her bottom lip before she finishes her sentence.

"Don't what?" He moves lower, hands gripping the sides of her scrub pants, kneeling down in front of her, hands gliding up her stomach to cup her breasts.

Her right hand moves to run over his head then, pulling and keeping him there, her lips dry and eyes shut tight.

"Jacks-"She lightly shivers when he kisses her pelvis, pulling down the top of her panties with his thumbs, scrubs already lowered to her knees. His nose grazes her skin, tongue tracing the small freckles.

April leans into the wall then, shoulder pushing the metal cabinet, rattling the bottles and bedpans, palm of her hand holding him tighter against her.

"What was that?"

The question doesn't come from either one of them, and the redhead's eyes fly open out of surprise. She doesn't talk, only pushes her secret husband's face away from her underwear and raises a brow at him.

Jackson shrugs, stands quickly with a frown. His green eyes squint and he holds up a finger to pause, sneaking his head around the corner to face the new guests in the storage closet. "Hey… guys."

He grins, feigns innocence, "Wanna just hand me my shirt?" He waves a hand down at the ground for a small second.

His wife follows his lead then, pants pulled back up her legs and bra securely on, "Mine, too." She smiles, almost embarrassingly when she spots Alex and Jo stood like disbelieving parents.

Oops.


	21. Day 21

**DAY TWENTY ONE**:_ It's Jackson's birthday and he's been working all day long, but his wife has a welcome surprise waiting for him when he gets home_.

* * *

What exactly does a successful man, half plastic surgeon, half husband, do on his thirty third birthday? Not spend it in the hospital doing breast implants, that's what.

His job is a lot more rewarding than this on a daily basis, but it just happens that on this day, his day, he has to get all tangled up with silicon and skin.

It's not that he doesn't love his job. He likes helping people, mainly the ones who actually need the help and not just those who aim to be more beautiful.

On the other end, he's never had a problem with women's breasts. What straight guy would? And his wife's are definitely the best set he's ever seen, held, worked with.

Speaking of which…

"April?" He places his keys down on the hook as he enters their apartment, searches around their living room, "Hello?" The lack of response isn't very reassuring. But he hopes that she's in the place somewhere since all he wants right now is to have a warm bath with his hot wife.

Jackson slips his jacket from his arms then, tosses it down over the back of the couch before he slips into the kitchen.

He spots a hot casserole pan steaming on the stove, a fresh bottle of red wine open on the side with an empty glass. And he almost dies at the sight of a chocolate fondant sat waiting to be divulged beside the bottle.

Where the hell was she? "April?"

"In here!" Her voice rings out from the bedroom, lower than usual with a shaky breath as though she was nervous about something.

His grabs the bottle of wine then, pours the empty glass full of the red liquid, slides his hand along the edge of the counter as he heads down the short hallway.

He smiles as he pushes the door open, grin turning to surprise when he spots her in the middle of the room, on their bed with no covers. "Hi."

April licks her lips, shifts to kneel herself up, palms pressing to the sheet, "Happy birthday!"

He approaches her slowly, brows raised as she moves, showcases her attire and appearance. "Is this for me?"

She flicks her flowing red locks behind her shoulders, rests her hands along her thighs, fingertips taping against the clasps of her stockings as she parts her legs in her knelt position. "It's all for you." April whispers, wicked look in her eye contrasted by her innocent smirk.

Jackson nods once, quickly takes a swig of his wine before placing it on the bedside table to join hers. He licks his lips and nears her closer, eyes blinking rapidly at the sight of her dressed like that.

April Kepner does not dress like this. April Kepner wears cardigans and dresses and flats. April Kepner does not wear slutty maid outfits with stockings and stilettos.

But she is.

"Can I unwrap my present now?" He asks her, waving a hand out to touch her lace-covered waist, watching as she backs away.

She moves, eyes to her own chest as she stands up, reaching his height and then gazing perfectly into his eyes. "Not yet."

He goes to talk until she places her hands on his chest, pushes him down forcefully onto the bed. He leans back on his forearms then, watching the way she reaches forward to grab his belt.

"I made your dinner, Mr. Avery." She grins, though it's hard for her to ignore the soft blush covering her cheeks. She's still her, after all.

"Yeah?" He casts his eyes down as she unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans quickly, roughly pulling on the flaps when she pops open the button. He shifts forward, upward, a small groan emitting from the back of his throat when she begins to slip his pants down his legs, tugging his boxers down too.

April nods, continues to undress him, "But I thought you could have dessert first." She teases him, chews her bottom lip between her teeth, enough to bruise, and she pushes him back down when he reaches for her side. She swats his hand away, smiles devilishly when his pants fall to his calves and she moves to throttle his waist.

"What's dessert?"

She straddles his lap, thighs beside his own and warm centre grinding against his erection. "Me." She reaches a hand behind her to grab him, place him at her entrance before sliding down onto his shaft.

He tugs on the bottom of her black and white dress then, pulling the already minuscule cloth up to her waist, realising she hadn't been wearing any underwear. "Damn, April!"

She grins, lets out a small giggle, lets out the true April for a second, running her small hands up and down his bare chest, burning his tanned flesh with her heated cream skin, leaning forward to press her lips to his neck. She swipes her tongue down his throat, nibbles his collarbone as she rides him, lets his rougher hands grip her hips.

"Jesus!" His eyes stare as she quickens her pace, reaches between them to grab his hand to rub herself, presses his fingertips against her swollen nub.

"You like this?" She pants, breathes heavily through shaky air. Her lips tremble and she closes her eyes, feeling herself nearing completion.

He nods then, green eyes wide and a sharp viper colour, unable to focus anywhere but on her, on them, "Yeah." He mutters, quietly and husky.

She climaxes a few seconds later, when his hand is moving frantically against her body, when her back curve and her muscles begin to ache. She moans, slips a curse word between her parted lips, lets him guide her to the finish line. Her eyes flicker open as she comes, nostrils flared and mouth dry as she watches him do the same.

They stop, or slow, their movements a few moments later, when her knees are weak and he's empty from spilling and she's breathless.

"When's your birthday?"


	22. Day 22

**DAY TWENTY TWO**: _April is pregnant and Jackson talks to the baby at night while she is sleeping._

* * *

She's not actually asleep, she just pretends to be so she can hear him, watch him through closed lashes.

He does it almost every night, whenever they're both in bed at the same time and no one is pulling a night shift, when his mother hasn't stopped by and is taking up their time, when they're tired and she's sleepy and he's just happy, a nice change from his usual grumpy self.

"Hey, baby."

It's not to her, she notes, smiling softly in her daze as she feels the palm of his large hand rest against her swollen belly. It's growing, and it's theirs, and he's happy, so she's happy.

"Daddy had an excruciating day, today." He grimaces, pulls a face as though he's not sure the baby will understand the word 'excruciating'. None the less, he continues, "Were you good for mommy? I hope so." Jackson smiles to himself, to his wife though he doesn't know it.

April breathes a deep sigh, shifting a shoulder comfortably and moving her hand to rest atop his own.

"Oop. Mommy's tired." He laughs, to himself, in the air, unable to remove the grin from his lips and his eyes from her pregnancy. "Did she sing to you today? She usually does. I'm sure she did."

He rambles on after that, speaks to himself, to the baby, about April's adorable singing voice, about the way she hums around the kitchen when she decides to make dinner. He rambles on about how much he loves it, loves her, loves them.

His hand moves from the top of her growing bump to the swell at the bottom, fingers splaying out across her bare skin. She prefers sleeping naked because she feels more comfortable that way now that she's pregnant. He holds no complaints, of course.

He leans down to kiss her stomach then, lips lingering against her skin for a moment, eyes flickering up to his wife's closed ones. "Love you." He smiles, like he only ever does for her, like he only ever will for them, for his family.


	23. Day 23

**DAY TWENTY THREE**: _Along the lines of the movie 'Serendipity' where Japril meet because of that one glove and spend one magical New York evening together in the hopes of meeting again in the future._

* * *

"Nah, come on, I promised my girlfriend that I'd buy them."

The redhead shrugs casually, swipes the dark gloves from his tanned fingertips, "Guess you should've bought them sooner."

He, Jackson of thirty two years, grins, snatches them back from her grip, "I was working, and she'll kill me if I don't."

Her right brow hitches up then, "I'll kill you if you don't let me buy them. They're my last-minute Christmas present to myself." She explains, reaches for the gloves when he holds them above his head.

"To yourself? That's a little selfish, don't you think?"

"I like to think of it as a reward for working all day." She, April of thirty one years, smiles, holds the gloves safely in her hands, eyes them carefully, "Please?"

Jackson pauses, watches the way she watches them. He looks at her thoughtfully for a moment, admires her elegant beauty and innocent smile. "Okay. Fine." He sighs, feigns annoyance, "You can have them."

"Thank you." She goes to spin around, in the hopes of buying the gloves and running away before she makes a fool out of herself in front of such a crowded store. She doesn't talk to guys much, almost never, and someone so attractive and goddamn charming isn't helping her anxiety.

"Enjoy the gloves you bought yourself!" He speaks after her, hands stuffed into his jeans' pockets as she begins to walk away.

April turns to face him, chews the inside of her lip for a second with a soft smile, "I will. I happen to love my own thoughtfulness."

When she heads toward the cashier to pay, she stops gain when she hears him call out, her name out loud, "Do you wanna get something to eat?"

She's not sure if it's the nervous knot in her stomach, the good kind of sick, or the way he says it, asks so kindly, do politely.

But she accepts, because she feels something there, a connection with someone who's already tied to somebody else.

"Sure."

* * *

"So, do you come here often?" His eyes are green, she notices, a shade lighter than the garlands hanging out on the trees outside. They're lighter than Christmas green, but darker than ivory.

April nods, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she scoops up a spoon full of peanut butter ice cream, "I do, actually. It's my favourite place." She smiles, gazes up at him through long lashes, "I'm in love with the name of this place. It's one of my favourite words."

"Serendipity? A fortunate accident?" Jackson questions, messes around with the ice cream in his bowl. "Like, soulmates?"

"I happen to believe in soulmates. Don't you? Don't you believe that two people can be meant to find each other?"

"Maybe. I don't know." He frowns, thinks about his girlfriend for a second, "Maybe I just haven't met the right person yet."

"You will." She smiles, almost bashfully as she ducks her head.

He smirks, leans back in his seat, "Maybe it's you." He watches as she perks up at that, lifts a nervous gaze, "I'll tell you what. If you think that two people can be meant to find each other, soulmates or not, I'm gonna put your theory to the test. Okay?"

"Alright?" She tucks her red hair behind her ears, frowns out of confusion when he pulls a 5$ bill out of his wallet.

"Write on this." He hands her the note, slides a pen across the table.

She accepts it silently, a disbelieving smile on her lips, "Anything?"

"Anything."

She scribbles something down quickly. He doesn't look, not as she writes, not when she passes him the note back. He folds it in half, slips it underneath his now empty glass.

"If two people are ever going to find each other again, I'll find this." He begins, staring down at the gloves placed beside her on the table. "And if I find it, I'll do whatever I can to track you down. And those gloves."

"Okay." She blushes softly, "Serendipity."

"Serendipity."


	24. Day 24

**DAY TWENTY FOUR**: _Laying together in bed, April is reading an erotic novel when she becomes too tired to read so Jackson reads it out loud for her, and he begins to re-enact the things happening in the book._

* * *

"Tired?"

She'd been quietly reading her book for the past twenty minutes, but apparently working late and coming home even later had taken its toll on the trauma surgeon.

Her head falls against his shoulder, and he glances down at her sleepy face with a smile.

She just nods in return, "Yeah." With a yawn. "But I wanted to finish this tonight." She waves the book gently, taps the front cover.

Jackson peeks down at the novel in her lap, pries it from her fingertips after moving his paperwork down on his bedside table. "Are you reading porn?"

"It's nice." She shrugs, eyes still closed against his side.

"Nice porn?" He laughs once, flicks open the page to where she had been reading it, "_His hands move slowly against her skin, the pads of his thumbs running along her inner thighs_. Really, babe?" His green eyes light up out of disbelief.

April groans, tucks herself deeper into his soft side.

His free hand, the one not occupied by the book and the one at her side, drops to her thigh then, and he smirks wickedly. His fingers splay out across her skin, and he continues to read on.

"_She trembles, feeling his touch so delicately against her innocent flesh. It's a new experience._" April shifts, skin erupting in goosebumps as he reads, "_His hand moves up then,slipping past the thin barrier of her skirt and below her panties._"

He holds back a laugh, looks down at his wife. His hand moves higher, slides underneath her silk nightdress.

"April?" His voice is low and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning like a fool.

She frowns out of curiosity, "Uh uh?"

"Do you want me to keep reading?"

There's a silence for a second as she seems to catch on to what he means.

"Yeah."


	25. Day 25

**DAY TWENTY FIVE**: _Professor and student affair. Continuation of chapters 27 and 29 of my Everything I Long For series._

* * *

"But then the guy was all like 'Oh, I can't go in there!' and I was like- Hey, where are we even going?"

Lexie Grey rambles. It's what she does best.

"I have to return a book I borrowed last week." Her redheaded friend waves a thick novel around in one hand, pushes her bag further up her shoulder with the other."

The brunette glances around her shoulder with a grin, reading the name on the plaque, "From Professor Avery's office?"

April smiles, uncomfortably rests a hand against the door handle. "It's fine. He's- He's in his office, so I'll just give him the book and-"

"Say no more." Lexie holds up her hands, backs away from her fellow student with a knowing look, "I'll be downstairs when you're ready to go get lunch." She purses her lips, nods her head towards the office, "Have fun."

And with that, she waltzes off, leaves April behind to open the wooden door with ease. She enters the room then, spins around to close the door behind her.

"Hello, Miss Kepner." His voice is low, as husky as usual, and she almost wants to rip his pants off right there.

She smiles, pushes red hair behind her ears and tends the book out to him, "I finished reading it."

"Did you enjoy it?"

His eyes, Jackson's (Mr. Avery!) beautiful green eyes do that shiny thing again, the one that makes her heart almost burst right out of her chest.

He licks his lips, smirks, walks towards her and corners her against the door after sliding the old novel along his desk.

She swallows a breath, lets her small hands run up his chest as he reaches for her waist, pulls her against him. "Immensely." April replies, dropping her bag to the floor and tugging her skirt up her thighs when he grips the back of her knees to pull her up.

"I'm glad."

"Glad I enjoyed it, or glad I returned it to your office just now?" She bites her lip, eyes his own. Her hands move from his chest to his neck, pulling on the tight knot of his tie. "Damn it, Professor."

Jackson, yes, they're still on a first name basis, smirks, lifts her up to wrap her legs around him, carry her over to his desk. His hands run up her back, from the low to the swell to the top, slipping past the collar of her cardigan and the straps of her top.

"Damn it, indeed, Miss Kepner."


	26. Day 26

**DAY TWENTY SIX**: _Set following their breakup in season nine. One day, Jackson's doorbell rings and he opens it to find April standing there with a small child._

* * *

He hasn't seen her since the day after the breakup on the bench. And it's not from a lack of trying.

He asks around, checks with his co-workers and the nurses he knows she gets along with. One of them tells him she left town, one of them says she quit.

He wants to apologise for so long, clear up whatever mess he made and start fresh. He regrets ending things, whatever things were in the first place. He regrets breaking her heart the same way she broke his.

All of this until one day when he's home (because he's head of the hospital board now and he can grant himself as many days off as he wants), and his doorbell rings. He's not sure who it'd be since nobody at the hospital knows where he lives.

It's been eight hundred, ninety five days since he last saw her. He's been alone ever since, no company, no best friend to share everything with. It's been over two year since April Kepner broke his heart, since he broke hers.

But it seems that she hasn't been alone all this time.

"Hi." She's nervous, he can tell from her stance and the way her arms are folded over her chest. She has a bag thrown over one arm and a small child stood beside her. "Jackson."

He doesn't respond at first, only keeps his eyes focused on the little boy clinging to her leg. He's not an idiot. He can tell how old the boy is. He's two, give or take a few months.

"What-" Jackson stops himself, leans a hand against his apartment doorway and flickers his gaze up to her, his heartbreaker, "Is-"

He has to be, right? Around that time, she'd only ever slept with him. He'd been the only man, only person, to ever fully experience the whirlwind that was April Kepner. And he doesn't want to think about any other guy ever taking that title away from him. She is his, because he's loved her the way she wanted to be loved, the way she never knew he had.

April nods, licks her lips with a smile down to the child at her side. "Yeah."

"Not pregnant." He repeats, remembering her words from all that time ago. He blinks, rapidly and with a deep sigh. He runs a hand over his face, creases his brows before looking back at her. "D'you wanna come in?"

It's the kid, his kid, that replies, nods before letting go of his mother's hand and running along into the apartment.

April lingers in the doorway for a moment, timidly keeps her gaze on Jackson's chin instead of on his actual face. He'll break her. "I'm sorry."

She enters then, pushes her bag further up her shoulder as he turns to close the door behind them.

With a deep breath, he allows his eyes to watch the scene in front of him. There's a baby, his baby, with a mother who had once refused him. There's a baby and heartbreak. There's a new start. "Yeah, I'm sorry, too."


	27. Day 27

**DAY TWENTY SEVEN**: _Jackson is stressed out at work, so one day April offers to help him relax._

* * *

"Knock, knock." She taps against the door, knuckles on wood with a smile plastered across her face.

He looks up, green eyes bright yet she can still make out a hint of annoyance, though it's not towards her.

"Hey." He fakes a smile, leans back in his chair, moving the leather backwards as he sways, his pen swatting the desk in front of him rapidly.

April approaches him, with slow steps and weary arms folded over her chest.

Today is her day off, but Jackson was going to be working all day and night and he'd been so stressed out by his mom nagging him about the hospital lately that she, good wife that she is, decided that he needed a break.

"Are you okay?" She stops there, with a hand resting on his heavy shoulder and a knit to her brows. She bites her lower lip, eyes her husband's own.

"I'm just… tired, is all." He sighs, looks away from his paperwork for a second to glance up at her, "How about you, huh? Wait- what are you even doing here? Isn't today your day off?" He runs his free hand, the one not occupied by his pen, up her arm, cups her elbow gently.

April smiles at that, moves even closer to him, stepping between his legs and leaning the palms of her hands against the back of his seat. "It is, but I felt like popping my husband a quick visit." She grins, bats her eyelashes and accepts his kiss when he reaches up to meet her.

She moans softly when his tongue meets her lip, when he breaks that barrier and she has to drop her hands to his chest.

Jackson pulls away and rests his forehead against his wife's, "Thank you."

She looks back and forth between his eyes and his mouth, a wicked smile toying on her lips. "I'm not done." She removes her hands from his chest then, shifts away from him slightly.

"Oh, really?"

"Yep." She does that innocent smirk thing that drives him wild, the one she'd done in the men's room a few years back. "Close your eyes." She whispers, voice lower than her usual perk and she peeks up at him through long lashes as she moves onto her knees, wraps her small fingers around the strings of his scrub pants.

"April-"

"Close. Your. Eyes." The trauma surgeon repeats, makes sure he does as she says before she slips his scrubs down and pulls down his boxers, fingertips wrapping around his freed length.

"You don't have- Okay!"


	28. Day 28

**DAY TWENTY EIGHT**: _Jackson and April actually kiss in 9x19._

* * *

There's a pull still there.

It works like a string, acts like a tether, and it links them back to one another, it always has.

She's not sure why she does it, but it happens and she has no regrets. She likes doing it.

Maybe it's because she'd appreciated the way he'd comforted her, the way no one else can or ever will. Maybe it's because she was supposed to.

But she kisses him, the way she once used to where her hands press against his chest and she closes her eyes.

He's not sure why he does it. It's stupid of him, and will probably end up being a mistake in five minutes. But it happens, and he doesn't regret it, not the way he should.

He should feel guilty for accepting her weakness, for wanting her in a moment of sadness, when she's vulnerable and fragile and in need of some comfort.

He is that comfort, though. He knows it; he always has been. But comfort would have been the hug he sufficiently gave her, the rub on the back and the reassuring words he spoke.

He gave her comfort; this is just selfish.

It's the kind of selfishness that doesn't seem so bad, it feels right instead of wrong and where his guilt should be eating away at him, it's actually urging him on.

But he accepts her kiss, and he pushes harder, and his hands grip the sides of her face the same way they always have done, the same way they're supposed to.

Maybe it's the pull, the tether that keeps bringing them closer together, that draws them closer, makes them believe that kissing isn't so bad.

It can be innocent, the way she was once before he intoxicated her.

It can be comfort.


	29. Day 29

**DAY TWENTY NINE**: _Jackson and April having sex for the first time and April is really confused about whether he's supposed to be making those sounds since she's a virgin._

* * *

She's not the most experienced person, to say the least. Hell, she's not at all experienced.

She's read those sometimes-sloppy sometimes-erotic novels, and watched her fair share of romantic comedies, she's searched through manuals out of pure curiosity.

But nothing has ever told her, warned her, if he, the man above her with his steady hold and sausage penetrating her mash, is supposed to be making such noises.

Is that normal?"

"Unf."

He grunts like a dog, with his bright eyes closed and his lips smashes against hers, yet she can still manage to hear it.

He follows it up by asking her if she's OK. She's not sure what to reply? Are you? You sound like you're dying?

"Fuck." He doesn't curse often, only when his favourite team loses a basketball game or someone irritates him just a little too much. She's his best friend; she knows these things.

It's not as though she isn't voicing her own emotions through sound. She's loud, louder than he expects, quieter than she expected she would ever be.

She hiccups, when he slips inside, when he pushes. She sobs, but out of pleasure instead of pain.

But she doesn't husk, or swear, and she definitely doesn't growl. Is she supposed to?

Is she supposed to sound like she's losing her breath? Is she supposed to be making other noises than her heavy breathes and sweaty moans? Is she supposed to be doing what he's doing; grunting and groaning and repeating her his name over and over again? Is she- Ah, there it is!

"Jackson!"

Maybe it's normal.


	30. Day 30

**DAY THIRTY**: J_april are having a normal conversation while cuddling in bed until Jackson suddenly feels frisky and starts touching her as he pleases. She notices this, but continues talking as if nothing is going on._

* * *

"How was your day, today?" April smiles as she asks, closes the book in her lap and watches her husband as he comfortably settles in beside her.

Jackson shrugs, closes his eyes while he yawns, "It was fine." He blinks his lids, wraps his arm across her waist, fingers curling around her side. "How about you?"

She brightens up then, pushes her novel firmly aside and turns to face him directly, unintentionally moving his hand to her backside. "It was great."

"Yeah?" His eyes widen, his hand moving across her short-clad ass.

April nods eagerly, grins softly while biting the inside of her bottom lip when she feels the palm of her hand cup her backside, "Uh huh."

"What happened?" Jackson's green eyes flutter back and forth between her face and her chest, impressed with how nicely pregnancy is treating her (and him).

"There was this kid who came in with a ruptured appendix, and you how we alway throw an intern into the OR to do-" She continues to ramble on, though her eyes drift to his hand that moves from her ass to her front, innocently slipping below the waist and of her pyjama shorts. She smirks at his facial expression, at the way he nods and smiles and clearly has no interest in whatever she's saying but at least he's pretending.

He has almost no idea what she's been saying up to how, since he was too distracted with the way she looked, glowed, and the way he was aching for her. "And then what?"

"And then I…" She pauses, little glint in her eye as she quickly grabs his forearm, stops his movements when she feels his fingertips sliding past her panties. "You could have just asked." The redhead teases, shuffling closer to her husband but keeping a tight grip on his arm.

He laughs nervously at that, bats his pretty little lashes at her with a charming smile, the one she's never once fallen for. "I was being polite."

He tries to excuse himself, to which she giggles falsely before swatting his chest with a mocking frown.

"And then I…" She decides to continue, finally letting go of his arm and enabling his distraction.


	31. Day 31

**DAY THIRTY ONE**: J_april celebrating New Year's together._

* * *

"Alright, there's exactly two minutes left before the countdown and I have no idea where my husband is." April panics, bottom lip curled as she searches the crowded bar full of co-workers and strangers.

Amelia rolls her eyes, "He was working a late shift, April. I'm sure he'll be here." She rests a comforting hand on her shoulder, perks a brow, "Stop worrying."

"What if he's not?" She sighs, stares down at her wedding band, "He promised we'd celebrate new years together because we never have. This is our first full year together!" She's not being childish, and she's nor whining, she's just a little peeved since her husband promised he'd be there for her, for the countdown, to start a brand new year with her.

"He's just- Ah!" The brunette raises a hand, points s finger towards The Joe's entrance, "Told you!"

April spins around then, eye focusing in on her husband, quickly rushing over to her with his work bag hanging over his shoulder.

"Where have you been?" She swats his chest when he arrives in front of her, stares up at him through long lashes, "I thought you weren't gonna be here on time."

Jackson grins, wraps his arms around her waist to pull her in as he hears voices around the room begin to countdown. "It's just a little countdown, April."

"7… 6…"

"A little countdown? This is our new start, Jackson! We get to start from scratch this time!"

"I know that, okay?" He cups the side of her face in the palm of his hand, looks down at her the way he always does with adoration, "I'm here. And… I'm going to kiss you in 3… 2… 1."

She smiles at that, lips pulled into a sly grin when he leans down to kiss her, fingertips pushing into her sides as she grips the collar of his shirt.

"Happy new year!" The redhead laughs as she pulls away, keeping her small but steady hands pressed against his chest.

He nods once, twice, slips his hands to her backside to pull her in closer, if at all possible, "Happy new year!"


End file.
